PosNeg
by Donner Dumott Schunard
Summary: Actual MarkxAngel slash. Angel and Collins has broken up and Mark tries to be impulsive for once. Deals with issues of positivenegative relationships.
1. It's Over

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter One: It's Over**

Roger nearly spat his coffee across the table. "_What_!"

Mark pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You've heard right. Angel and Collins are over."

"...Why!" Roger yelled, "Weren't they all, 'Oh my God! I love you! I love you!' only a matter of _days _ago!"

"I know! I know! Roger, come on," Mark mumbled.

"What's wrong?" Roger asked.

"I don't know... I just figured... it's a little shocking, you know? I mean, it's... I thought they were real."

"Yeah? So? Relationships fall apart," Roger said, "What are ya gonna do? Maybe it's for the best."

"How?" Mark asked, "Roger, they're _dying_!"

Roger stared, his eyes a little cloudy.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Roger, I didn't mean that! You know I didn't!"

Roger grumbled, "Yeah, sure."

"They're going to have to get separate apartments, I guess... it'd be too awkward to be in the same living quarters as a guy you used to go out with..." Mark mumbled.

"What are you suggesting?" Roger asked.

"Nothing," Mark whispered. "I just... I feel bad! Do you think we had something to do with it? Were we just too hard on them."

"Mark, we never were," Roger said, sounding almost like he cared.

Mark sighed. He looked out the window and noticed the rain running down the windows. "Of all the days..." he mumbled.

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"And now... I have hit rock bottom," Angel announced, hiding under the overhang of the bagel nook. She looked around, wiping at the running mascara clinging to her cheek. She sighed. "It figures. Give a kid their soulmate, and they find some way to fuck it up."

She looked around. She felt gross. It was just disgusting out and her whole body was soaking wet. She watched her legs shift against her translucent-white skirt. She looked at the door, tempted to walk in and warm up. But it looked too... friendly. She sighed. No one loves the freaky ones. Ever.

She threw up her hands and walked in. She looked around and tried to find a familiar face. She didn't find any. Whimpering, she sat at a booth and curled into a ball. This was just disgusting. That was the only word that she could use.

Then it got worse. She saw... Mark.

"Dammit! Hiding in a bagel place with a Jewish friend in the bowels... nice," Angel mumbled.

Just then, Mark stepped in. Angel tried to make herself smaller. It didn't work. Mark ran over to her and screamed, "Angel!"

Angel looked up and gasped. "Oh... hi."

Mark screamed, "Oh my God! Why are you all wet? C'mon!"

He grabbed her and said, "You must be freezing..."

Angel shook her head. "I'm fine, honey..."

"Come on. You're going!" Mark yelled.

Angel sighed, getting up and clinging to him. "Only because you asked."

"Oh wait! Food, duh," Mark said, making a beeline for the counter.

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel looked at the bag of bagels left on the table as Mark rummaged through the room. "You don't have to do this," she mumbled.

"But I am," Mark said, "And you're not going to stop me. Use that towel."

Angel grabbed the canary yellow towel and wiped off her neck. She wiped away her make-up and breathed in the slightly-smelly towel. At least she wasn't as cold as she was before...

Mark found some sweats and threw them at her. "Use these."

Angel started, "But..."

"Don't fight me, Angel," Mark threatened. It wasn't empty, nor was it very frightening, but Angel obeyed. She padded to the bathroom, her eyes wide. Roger saw her walk past and looked up. "What's going on?"

"Angel was out in the rain," Mark said, "I'm letting her stay here. I don't know what's going on. Just don't give her a hard time, okay?"

Roger shrugged. Then he whispered, "Is she going to stay here?"

"Look, Roger," Mark said, "I am going to let her stay as long as she has to. I'm not going to kick her out. I can't."

"Mark, this wasn't your fault..." Roger started, raising his voice a little.

"Just... drop it," Mark snarled.

Roger flinched. "What got _your _panties in a bunch!"

"...What!" Mark yelled, "I... never!..."

"Uhm... hi?" Angel asked, peeking through the door.

"Hey. They fit you," Mark said.

Roger started, "They're mi..."

"Thanks," Angel murmured. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Really. This was humiliation.

"Well, we got some bagels!" Mark exclaimed, "Let's eat!"

Angel's eyes lit up. "Oh... good!"

Roger watched, suspiciously. "Okay."

They walked to the bag of bagels and each took one. They didn't talk. Mark wanted to quiz Angel to death. What happened? Was it for good? Was there a fight? Did they cause it? Was it just a ticking timebomb!

Mark nearly choked on his bagel. This was not going to end up very well, was it? Well... maybe that was a little too mean and pessimistic. Things were definitely going to end up... different.

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Like? Love? Hate? Want more? Want less? Want Mark to run over and make out with Angel? Please, feel free to review.


	2. Hold Fast

1You officially know you're cool when Teh Alice says she likes it.

Whoa... I'm staring at this old ticket stub from the New York Giants... and all I saw was "COLLINS" and I realized Kerry Collins was on it. Muy ironic.

**Disclaimer**: Iiii don't own emooootion or REEEEEENT...

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Two: Hold Fast**

By ten, Angel was fast asleep. Mark wasn't worried about it. He could only guess how long Angel was out there and the drama that surrounded him beforehand. He looked peaceful. His eyes were closed gently, his pink lips parted slightly. He was now nice and dry and had a rather good meal. Mark felt exploitive. His friend was recovering from a break-up and all he could think about was how... tangible... they looked asleep. Roger came in and gave Mark a blanket. "Want it? It was in my room, but it's too damn hot for me."

Mark grabbed it, fingering through the fringe at the edge of it.

"You okay?" Roger asked, suspicious.

"Just... confused," was the only way Mark could reply. Confused wasn't even the half of it.

Roger grumbled, "I'm going to be early, too. Night."

"Night," Mark whispered. He held the blanket tighter in his arms. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Ah... I hate this."

He draped the blanket on Angel and darted.

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The next morning, Angel was happy again. He bounced around and attempted to make breakfast. Roger liked the idea of having a waiter and showed it by leaning back on his chair, demanding, "Make coffee. I like mine black."

Mark sighed. Either Roger was trying to have it seem like nothing happened, or Roger was just a jerk.

Mark watched Angel twirl in the old sweats. He bit his lip. He had to get Angel his normal clothes... pronto. He didn't deserve to live in Roger and Mark's tattered sweatpants. But at the same time, Mark had to weigh out seeing Collins, which he really didn't feel like seeing right now. He was short on details, but he had this nagging feeling that Collins did something stupid to make Angel lurk in the rain without any umbrella or jacket. Mark just prayed that it was a clean, mutual, break. He took a chance and got ready to leave, hoping to catch Collins before he left for NYU.

"Where are you going?" Roger asked.

"Yeah!" Angel said, "You're going to miss breakfast..."

"I'll have some later, guys," Mark said, "I'm going to go get some things for you, Angel."

"You don't have to do that," Angel said quietly.

"I know, I know," Mark mumbled, wrapping his scarf around his neck, "but, you're probably going to have to stay here for awhile, I figure..."

Angel nodded. Roger gave a look of utter dread. He wasn't sure if he could take Angel's perkiness twenty-four/seven. It was like looking after a child.

"Well," Mark said, opening the door, "I gotta go."

He ran to Collins' apartment. Collins was nearly out the door. He looked up at Mark and mumbled a hi.

"Uhm," Mark said, trying to be quick, "Angel is going to spend some time at the loft. She was there last night, too. You know, in case you're wondering."

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks. I was worried," Collins said, almost emotionless. "I was worried sick about her."

"What happened?"Mark asked.

"Look, Mark, I gotta go," Collins said, gruff.

"Can I get her things?" Mark asked.

"Yeah," Collins said, letting Mark in.

Mark found the infamous pickle tub and stuffed it with her blonde wig, a few pairs of tights, two drag outfits, street clothes, and some make-up (he could only figure that her necessities were like that of Maureen or any other girl). Collins shoved in a pair of drumsticks. "That'll do."

Mark nodded. "Yeah. You know, I'll come back at a better time and get all her stuff..."

Collins looked at Mark with a pained look in his eyes. "Okay. Uhm... see ya, Mark."

"Bye," Mark whispered, leaving. As he juggled the important contents in the tub, his mind raced. This basically wasn't a clean break. Collins still wanted her back, and it was clear. So either the Collins screwed up theory was accurate, or Angel dumped him, which wasn't possible. Angel seemed much too distraught to be the one to dump him. And that simply didn't seem like Angel's style. He took a deep breath and opened the door of the loft, juggling the tub. He gasped as he nearly dropped it, Roger and Angel darting over to catch it. As a drumstick hit the ground, Roger asked, "How'd it go?"

"We didn't really talk," Mark said. He picked up the drumstick and handed the tub to Angel. "He feels bad... for whatever he did."

Angel nodded. "I'd hope so."

Roger and Mark looked at each other nervously. Mark got an idea. "Oh! Angel, why don't you come with me to do some filming today and tomorrow instead of drumming... it'll be fun. We really do need some time together!"

Angel said, "Mark... I really want to drum. I haven't for a few days."

"So drum in the loft with Roger afterwards," Mark suggested, "Roger needs a beat, anyway."

Roger nodded. "Yeah. It'd be fun."

Angel smiled. "Okay. I'll... go get dressed." He took the tub into the bathroom and returned several minutes later in a floral-pattern dress and a blonde wig. With a quick smile and a curtsey, he became the glamourous Angel Dumott-Schunard, mistress of blurring the lines of male and female. She hugged Mark tightly. "Thanks for picking out this dress... I just got it at a thrift store and I didn't get to wear it yet! I think it looks pretty good. What do you think?"

"I like it," Mark said, blushing.

"Yeah... I do, too," Roger added, trying to sneak out. Then something caught his eye. "Angel... are those... _bruises_?"

Angel looked at him like he was crazy. "Where?"

Roger grabbed her arms and inspected them. "Yep. Those are bruises."

Sure enough, there were purple marks on the upper half of her arms. "Did someone grab you?"

Angel said, "Yeah... some did. It was ugly."

Mark piped in with, "Was it... Collins?"

Angel didn't answer. She took her worn red jacket and put it on.

"Angel," Roger said, raising his voice.

"It was Collins, alright?" Angel snapped, "We fought physically. If you look at him, he's got some scratches. He grabbed me and shoved me. It's seriously not as bad as it looks. I just bruise easily. Leave me alone."

Mark gasped. This was getting a little more serious than he thought. These two fought... physically. He knew that he couldn't get any more information with Roger around. He said, "Come on, Angel, we need to go."

Angel nodded, not having enough emotion to shoot Roger a dirty look. They walked out in silence.

The whole day was very quiet, thick with confusion and curiosity, but no courage to come out with it. Angel barely said a word, tapping out a beat on her legs and Mark filmed around the city. The next day fit their current state perfectly... unseasonably cold for late March. As the drag queen and film maker walked together, Mark asked, "Angel... are you cold?" He noticed how she rubbed her arms multiple times, in hopes of heating up. She didn't have a thick jacket, and was used to being tangled in someone's arms, so it was strange and lonely.

She shook her head. "I'll be good."

Mark took her hand closest to him and gently felt at her fingers. "You're freezing!"

He made them stop as he took his scarf and unwrapped it from his neck. He wrapped it around Angel's neck and smiled as he let go of it slowly. "There you go."

Angel looked at the way the blue and white stripes hung down her chest. "Thank you."

"You look good in it!" Mark added.

Angel smiled, realizing she was blushing. "O-oh... oh God. I'm blushing!"

"I never thought I'd see the day that the invincible Angel D. Schunard would feel herself crumble against the weakling white boy from Scarsdale," Mark said, well aware he was bashing himself.

Angel laughed. "You're so weird!"

Mark smiled widely. They were finally resuming normality. _She looks so cute_... he thought. Then he mentally cringed. _Wait, wait, wait. No! She's not really a girl, remember? She's a guy. And she has AIDS. Just... don't... start._

"What's wrong?" Angel asked.

"Nothing," Mark said. But even so, his mind was racing. _Mark... you have more than five valid reasons not to go on with this fantasy. She's still recovering from a break-up... you are going to succumb to being a rebound. You are not even that low, yet. And, hello, she's a guy. And besides, even if you get over that... she's going to die. You don't deserve to suffer, Mark!_

He watched as Angel played with the fringe of his scarf.

._..but... she doesn't deserve to suffer, either._

Mark held her hand as a mysterious part of his brain said, _Come on, Mark. For once, do something impulsive._

"Angel," Mark whispered, "can you give me some advice?" _Just take your time, Mark..._

"Of course, Mark," Angel said, "I'm all ears."

"Well," Mark said, "let's say that you have a friend you've known for awhile."

"Yeah?" Angel said. She had an idea as to where this was going...

"Okay. You have a crush on this friend."

"Ahh... one of those," Angel murmured, hanging onto the scarf for dear life.

"...but you're not sure if your friend wants to go with it," Mark said.

"Uh huh," Angel said, trying to play dumb. Mark was so cute when it came to this stuff...

"What do you do?" Mark asked, "Do you bite the bullet and just say, 'I love you, dammit!'?"

Angel grinned. "You bite the bullet, dammit! Just say it! 'Tis better to love, than not love at all... or something like that! And I do believe this 'friend' demands some thing in return for their trouble."

Mark looked at her, confused. "What?"

"A kiss would be nice," Angel said.

"My, aren't we a little aggressive," Mark said, as if he was talking to a four year old.

"And you're just not finishing what you started," Angel snarled back.

"Okay," Mark said.

"Okay!" Angel yelled, "Kiss me, dammit!"

Mark nodded. He hadn't done kissing in a long time... but it was like riding a bicycle. You never forget...

He took her chin and pulled it toward him. He tried to dig back into his memory banks to when he was dating Maureen... He slowly met with Angel's lips and made sure that it was a long, deliberate, kiss. As he broke it he realized he opened a floodgate. It wasn't so much that he was negative, and she was positive, it was that he pretty much took an oath to be with her until the end.

Whenever that was.

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beams I really should be studying for my geometry quiz on proofs... but...

In the next chapter, Mark and Angel wander around the city, trying to figure out how they work together.

There is going to be a hardcore makeout scene by chapter five... I'm writing it right now :D

I hope you liked it,

Donna


	3. Negative

1I feel a need to express my undying love for the RENT fanfiction community. You guys just make me want to write so much and you're so sweet and I've never felt so comfortable in a community.

Okay. Now here's the story.

Oh, wait, I'm working on a "Pos/Neg" playlist. If you have any songs, feel free to suggest them. Hee hee. I'm a dork.

I don't own RENT. Remember that. But Suzie is mine.

**Pos/Neg**

**Chapter Three: Negative**

Mark was in utter shock. He couldn't believe what he just did. He i never /I took risks like that. Ever.

On the other side of the spectrum was Angel. She didn't think it was weird at all. She thought it was wonderful. Mark was sweet, smart, and funny, and she knew she could depend on him. That was all she needed, really. She laid her hand on Mark's hip and talked quickly. She knew it was only a matter of time until someone they knew caught them and spread the word. Even though she hung out with her Bohemia buddies, she still had to pay her dues to her social groups of drag queens and street performers at least once or twice a week. So when she realized they were in a drag friend of her's territory, she warned Mark, "Just take a deep breath and _don't bother trying to make eye contact_."

"Is that my Angel!" a voice yelled.

Angel winced. Not now.

Mark craned his neck to see a tall drag queen run over. He shouldn't have been surprised. Like he knew several film makers in the Village area, Angel was bound to know one or two drag queens and transgenders.

Mark was very amused. She was much taller than Angel, wearing heels that looked like they pushed her feet up one hundred-eighty degrees. He could smell her knock-off Chanel perfume as she gave Angel an air-kiss. Angel gave on in return, flashing that perfect smile she loved to give to everyone. The crossdresser took a lock of Angel's wig and exclaimed, "I almost didn't recognize you with the blonde!"

"Mark," Angel said, pressing against him, "Meet my friend, the Sensational Suzie Dee."

Suzie smirked. She tilted her head to the side, her platinum blonde flip-wig shifting a little. She studied Mark carefully, her blue eyes trying to see every bit of him for inspection. He listened to her pearls around her neck clink. As Mark looked at her rather padded form, Suzie asked, "Where's the Big Guy?"

"Collins?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, that guy," Suzie said.

"We broke up," Angel said, unflinching.

Suzie pouted. "Oh... honey!"

She grabbed Angel and forced her into a big hug. Mark could only watch in horror as Angel's free hand contorted into uncomfortable positions as her body followed suit. It reminded Mark of his creepy aunt that would hold her cats in similar positions. "Tell Miss Suzie all about it..."

"Suzie, it was almost a week ago," Angel choked out.

"_Three days ago!_" Suzie howled. "And you didn't tell me!"

"I didn't see you!" was the only excuse Angel could come up with.

"Can you _believe _her!" Suzie asked Mark.

"Well... you know how it is..." Mark started, trying to cover for her.

Angel got out of Suzie's grasp and stood next to Mark proudly. "I have a new guy! Meet Mark Cohen! He's a film maker!"

"How lovely!" Suzie exclaimed, like that of a mother. She shook his hand. She whispered, "Don't mind me asking... but are you positive?"

Mark snook his head. "No. I'm negative."

Angel cringed. This was not going to go over well.

Suzie could only repeat, "Oh" in different pitches. She pulled Mark away from Angel. Angel shrugged, sitting on the ground.

Suzie grumbled, "You're either the sweetest boy ever... or the most stupid."

Mark nodded, licking his lips. "I deserved that."

"I like it."

"What?"

"I said I like it. There's that Shakespearean tragedy complex with it. I'm a sucker for that stuff. And you never hear about relationships like this... well... not that I know of. Then again, we're still developing with this whole AIDS situation, aren't we? Anyway, I must ask you to do something. Don't break her heart. For the life of me, just... just don't do it. She tries to do so much for everyone and all she does is get herself bit in the ass. If the AIDS doesn't kill her, her heart breaking will. Seriously."

The realistic part of Mark's brain wanted to back out, but the part of him that was very much in love said, "I won't. I won't hurt her. I won't leave her."

"Good boy," Suzie said, patting his head. "Angel-baby! You can come back, now!"

Angel got up and walked over, picking grass off her tights. Suzie pulled out her purse and handed her a ten. "Do me a favor, darling? Take this fine boy to the diner and buy a big, greasy cheeseburger, and a big Coke. Two straws. Have fun. Go crazy. You both are probably skinnier than those sickly trees they put in the park a few weeks ago. Oh yeah, and get some cheesecake. Diner cheesecake is the best."

Angel grinned, waving the ten in her hand. "Lunch is covered!"

"Thank you, ma'am!" Mark said, "How could we repay you?"

"Don't do anything stupid," Suzie replied, "And if _anything _happens, talk to me. I'm usually around here or the nearest club."

She kissed Angel's cheek and whispered, "I like this guy. I thought Big Guy was going to crush you!"

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Mimi walked into the loft, belting out a song she heard in the club. Roger poked his head to see her. "Hi, Mimi. I didn't see ya yesterday. How're you doing?"

"Good!" Mimi chirped. She noticed the pickle tub lying by the bathroom. "Is Angel here?"

"Not at the moment," Roger mumbled, tinkering with his guitar.

She nodded. "Wait... a second..."

The door swung open, Angel singing, "We're _home!_"

Mimi turned around and grabbed Angel. She squealed, "Oh my God! Are you... like... staying here!"

"Yep!" Angel said, nodding her head. "Mark let me in."

Mimi pressed her forehead against Angel's, squealing. "Yes! We can have... _sleepovers!_"

Roger let out a long groan.

"We're going out to lunch now. Mark had to get some more film for his camera," Angel explained, "And I'm going to get on a warmer jacket."

She left, a bounce in her step.

Mark yelled, "Don't steal any of my clothes again!"

"_Again_?" Mimi asked.

Mark gulped. "She... had my... s-scarf."

"You never let anyone touch that!" Mimi exclaimed, "How did she..."

Angel walked in, wearing her trademark green sweater. "Let's go, darling!"

Mark took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and still holding his camera tight. "Yes. Let's."

They walked out, unaware of what they did.

"Did you see that!" Mimi squealed.

"...see what?" Roger asked.

"_Them!_" Mimi yelled.

"What about them?" Roger asked.

"The scarf? The hand-holding? It's a little too friendly, if you ask me."

"Are you suggesting Mark's _gay_? Because, much to popular belief, he's not."

"Roger! Be serious! I think Mark just got traded to the other team! I think... I think Mark's in love with Angel!"

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Ahh... silly kids. Silly, silly kids. You gotta love young love.

Reviews make me squeal really loud. Seriously. Oh... and do you think I can find a girl's Santa jacket in February? Well... out of season decor has never gotten in my way before.

Love ya!

Donna


	4. Two Straws

Once again, thank you so much for the comments on this little fic. This goes especially to minkhollow, who, still, is not giving up on my inability to write dialogue flowingly. You most certainly own my soul.

As does everyone else here. But let's not get into that...

**Pos/Neg**

**Chapter Four: Two Straws**

_Okay, Mark, focus. Even though you two just fell in love and you are in the process of your first food outing together... as a couple... doesn't make it anything to hyperventilate about. It's like going out with anyone. It's like going out with Angel. Any other day._

Angel asked, "What day is it, again?"

"Thursday," Mark replied.

"Oh! I got Life Support tonight."

"Oh. Okay."

"Could you... if you _want_... come with me?"

Mark tilted his head back and said, "Of course."

Angel grinned. "Thank you," she whispered. She looked to a waitress and ordered for them, exactly what Suzie specified. They quickly got a huge Coke, two straws.

"So," Angel said as she pulled a straw to her mouth. "What should we do? Should we just tell them or should we play it down for a little while?"

Mark shrugged. It would probably be a shock for a lot of their friends. But Angel was a very public person, and having her resort to hiding would probably not do well for her. "Maybe a day or two. You know... they'll figure it out. They're not stupid."

Angel smiled. "I'm sure Mimi has a feeling. We got that wavelength, you know."

Mark nodded, taking a sip from the Coke. "Yeah. I do."

Angel sat straight, trying to find something to talk about. Mark held her hand and swung it around slightly. It was a nice way to remind him that this was all real. Angel and him were really together and at this moment no one could take it away. It felt empowering, really. The skinny loser kid from Scarsdale got the flamboyant guardian of Alphabet City.

Mark contemplated saying what he was going to ask next, but he decided that he didn't have to worry now. Angel loved him and she wasn't going to leave him over something silly. "...Angel. Answer me. What happened between you and Collins?"

Angel shrugged. "Fine. It's not really very mysterious."

"Those bruises say other."

Angel rolled her eyes. "Leave me alone about that! It'll make sense when I finish."

She sighed, staring are our fingers, which wove in and out of brown and white. "Well. We were having little... tiffs... for the past two months. They started off as nothing. Just Collins being Collins. You know, 'Where a jacket,' 'Don't go out too long. I don't want you sick.' I understood. It just got so... overbearing. He just couldn't function without worrying I was going to die on him. Do you know how awkward that is when you're having sex!"

Mark cringed. "Uhm... I can imagine."

"Yeah. Not good. Then he told me to quit drumming."

"...what?"

"You heard correctly. Quit drumming. He got a hold of one of my blood tests and realized I dropped a bit. I was about to leave and he said, 'Where are you going? You're not drumming out there.' I just said, 'But, Collins, that's my job.' He said, 'You're getting worse, Angel! I'm not letting you drum.' 'Okay,' I said, 'So... what? Take a break?' and he said, 'No, Angel. I don't want you out there drumming... ever.' I couldn't take it. I screamed at him. He screamed back. We were crying and shit. Then he grabbed me and slammed me on the wall and said, 'Stop being such a greedy bitch and listen to me!' and I started to scratch and punch him and shit. I started screaming, 'You don't control me!' and after awhile we began resulting to name-calling. I can't believe I said some of those things... it... it was so tasteless..."

"...Did you call him a..." Mark started.

"Darling, I called him everything in the book. As did he. I hadn't heard any of those things since high school. It hurt. He said, 'I should have known not to try at love. I knew it would hurt me. I knew _you _would hurt me. Go away.' and I said, 'That's it? I thought you don't want me to get sick!' and he walked to the bedroom and locked the door. We slept in different rooms that night. And in the morning... well... it was still locked. He missed work. I ran off and we met up. That's all."

"Did you even say goodbye?"

"Uhm... I was still a little pissed, so I took a fabric pen and wrote 'IT'S OVER!' on the bedroom door," Angel said, covering her face. "I can't believe I did that. He should hate me forever. I just..."

Mark nodded. "So... you guys just couldn't... control each other."

"I guess. I hope we can still talk. I still really do like him. He's a great person and he's funny. But he's not 'the one,' you know?" She smiled. "I'm glad that it happened in the long run."

Mark smiled. The waitress put down the greasy, ugly burger on the table. He took a fry and twirled it. After letting it soak in ketchup, he put it in his mouth.

"You won't do that to me, will you?" Angel asked.

Mark chewed. "No."

"Good," Angel said. Mid-swallow, Mark felt Angel's lips on his own. He nearly choked, but kept his composure. She pulled back, eyes wide. "Oh God! Swallow, Mark!"

Mark punched himself as he willed the fry down his throat. "I'm okay... I'm okay..."

Angel breathed a sigh of relief. "If you died on me, I would have freaked out. They'd have to stick a few horse tranquilizers in me or something."

Mark laughed. "Yeah... and I got the camera. Which means it'd be i all /I on film. Wouldn't that be great?"

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"Mimi, you're crazy," Roger grumbled, "For the _last _time, Mark's not gay. He doesn't 'switch teams.' He's..."

"Roger, open your mind!" Mimi argued.

"How about no?" Roger snarled.

The door opened. Maureen and Joanne.

"Hey!" Mimi yelled, "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" Maureen asked.

"Angel and Mark..." Mimi started.

"...they're _not_!" Roger yelled.

After that, the conversation went straight to hell.

"They're not what!"

"Is Angel okay?"

"Are Collins and Angel back together!"

"Mark and Angel are..."

"Shut up, Mimi!"

"What?"

"They're..."

"_Here_!" Roger yelled, "They're coming into the complex!"

Everyone sat down, looking at the door. It creaked open. A very confused Angel and Mark entered.

"Hello!" everyone chorused.

"...uhm... hi," Mark said, "Why are you looking at us like that?"

"My, my, don't you two look awful close!" Maureen teased.

Mark realized that Angel's hand was laying on his hip. So much for keeping things quiet.

"Tell the studio audience," Mimi said, "Are you two 'a thing?'"

Angel looked at Mark and shrugged. "I told ya Mimi was sharp on these things." She turned to everyone. "Yep. We're together."

"Yay!" the girls cheered. They bounced around, happy to see Angel's rather quick recovery. Roger shook his head. He didn't support this one bit.

As Angel was pulled away, Roger walked over to Mark. He scowled as he shook his head even more.

"What?" Mark asked.

"You're such an idiot," Roger snapped, "You're supposed to be the one that's going to survive us all... you're the sane one. Why are you allowing to get yourself into her drama?"

"Roger," Mark said, "You need to learn to shut the fuck up and leave me alone."

Roger's eyes widened. It was funny how quickly the tables could turn on the two of them over a relationship.

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The next chapter is going to be interesting. Angel and Mark will not only go to Life Support, but they'll meet up with Collins and maybe push their relationship too far. Please review, loves! It keeps me going :3

-Donna


	5. Too Much

This chapter is for themuffini for reminding me to update of she'd "KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL" me :D

This is probably the most hardcore make out scene I have done in awhiiiiile, so don't hurt me on this one. I know zero foreplay. Be thankful this wasn't back in the days when I was thirteen and I did this.

**Disclaimer**: I DON'T OWN EMOTION, OR REEEEEENT!

**Pos/Neg**

**Chapter Five: Too Much**

Collins open the tired door of Life Support to see Mark and Angel sitting next to each other in the old folding chairs. He gasped. Mark's hand was on Angel's lap and Angel's head was on Mark's shoulder. Not something "friends" do. "H-hi."

"Hi, Collins," Mark said. Angel didn't speak. She just watched Collin sit far away from them. She still made a point to wave, however. She would be the first to admit that she didn't love Collins anymore, but she definitely didn't hate him, either. She could never hate him. Before they broke up, they shared three of the greatest months of her life. She just had to make a point to only improve upon it with Mark. She rubbed her cheek against Mark's shoulder. She didn't want to make Collins jealous or anything. That wasn't her style. She did, however, need someone to hold her up right now, because she was mentally ready to collapse. Mark hugged her tightly. "Are you okay?"

Angel nodded. She looked up and saw Gordon walk in. "Hi, Gordon."

Gordon took a double-take. "Angel!"

"You know Mark."

Gordon noticed Collins sitting on the other side. "Did you two..."

"There's no need to make a scene about this," Collins uttered.

"Please, Gordon," Paul said, entering the room, "They broke up. Angel's with someone new. Drop it."

"Thank you," the other three said.

After the meeting, Collins walked over to Angel and asked, "Can I talk to you?"

Angel looked at Mark and back at Collins. She nodded. "Sure. What's up?"

"I'm sorry," Collins mumbled.

"Oh, Collins, I know that. You don't have to say that."

They were quiet for a moment. Angel looked longingly in Mark's direction.

"I thought you said you liked your men black."

"Yeah, well, I made an exception."

"How sweet. But I'm going to remind you about something. He's negative."

"So? I'm the one with the disease, not him! I realize all of this. I'm willing, and he's willing, to take that risk."

Collins reached out for her, but she quickly backed away. "Please... don't touch me." She walked to Mark. "Let's go home."

Collins shook his head. He wondered who was more foolish. Angel for having this relationship, or Mark consenting to it.

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After a week, everyone knew about Mark and Angel. Maureen and Mimi thought it was perfectly fine. As for everyone else... they thought it was only going to end in disaster. Roger decided to take out his anger at Mark, which was no surprised. He couldn't bring himself to yell at Angel. She put dinner on the table.

As for the couple themselves, they went to "work" during the day, and talked about how life was and kissed like any normal relationship. Angel was trying to figure out some things about Mark. Like what really turned him on, or off. So she decided to turn to the best source of information on these things... Roger. The last person you get information from is themself. Everyone knows that.

"Hey, Roger," Angel said, busy preparing dinner, "You've known Mark quite awhile, am I right?"

"Yeah," Roger said, "I guess. Why?"

"What turns him on?"

Roger stared at her like she was crazy. "How the hell should I know!"

"C'mon, Roger! Everyone has something! Like you like it when Mimi wears your clothes."

"Who told you!"

"Please, Roger, for a stone-faced bastard you give away a lot about yourself," Angel grumbled, rolling her eyes. "And besides. Everyone has one. Sometimes it's stupid. Like Maureen loves it when Joanne acts unprofessional. Like sitting on a chair the wrong way or something. Collins was when I wore woman's..."

"Okay! More information than I need to know!"

Angel rolled her eyes. "Please excuse me while I hike up my thong."

"Oh my God! You're gross!"

"Well. Tell me Mark's."

"He likes having control," Roger said, trying to think. "I mean... in his last relationship he was totally Maureen's bitch. And it pissed him off a little. He likes to be in charge. That's why he's in movie-making. He decides what goes in. And he's nuts about your red lipstick."

"Thank you, sweetheart! I knew you'd know something! Now, then, can you do me a big favor? Go to a bar and get drunk off your ass all night. I want to do something nice for Mark."

"Why?" Roger asked, puzzled. "What did he do?"

"Nothing in particular. Just... being there! You know? Wait... you don't know. You don't do things spontaneously."

Roger nodded. "Damn straight. Do me a favor and don't go too far? I really don't want Mark to get... it."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to do something stupid like that?"

"You never know... I'm just trying to remind you. Now, I'm fucking broke. Do you have any money to give me?"

"Sure!" Angel pulled some fives out from her purse lying on the table, "Here you go!"

Roger took the money, fingering through it eagerly. "Pleasure doing business with ya."

"Oh, same here, darling. Same here."

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Mark walked into the loft, sniffing food. "Oh God! Angel?"

Angel grinned, swishing the wine in her plastic cup. "Hey, baby."

"Whoa!" Mark yelled, noticing the spread Angel had for him on the table. Chicken, rice, fruit...

Angel leaned back on the table, grinning widely. "I take it you like this?"

Mark watched her legs cross slowly as his eyes got so big, they were ready to swallow his face. "How'd you afford this!"

"By giving people the puppy-dog eyes of doom," she explained, demonstrating them as she took a sip of wine.

Mark ran over and kissed her. "Let's eat!"

They sat across from each other and commenced the meal. Mark shoveled food in his mouth, barely coherent to the world around him. It took him two plates of rice to notice that Angel was wearing a beautiful black dress. "I love that."

"What?" Angel asked, confused.

"That dress." Mark wiped rice off his face.

"Everyone needs a little black dress!"

"And I love your red lipstick. Maureen didn't wear lipstick. Fuckin' dyke."

Angel sighed. "Please, honey, no discussion of ex-whatevers at the dinnertable."

Mark laughed, taking a gulp of wine. "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

Angel smiled, shaking her head. "It's alright. It's alright."

By the end of the dinner, Mark was buzzed. He got up from his seat and pulled at Angel's arm, begging to be kissed. Angel giggled, kissing his lips. They began to kiss deepen as they moved to the couch. Mark was about to go crazy... Angel was able to make the most innocent and crazy moans and grunts. Mark began to purposely smudge her lipstick as he held her face close to his own. They laid back on the couch, Angel fighting for the top. She growled as she tried to bite at Mark's shirt. She began to nibble at the top button, her teeth clanking on the plastic. She finally got to the loose threads and ripped at the button triumphantly. Mark didn't care that the shirt was one of the few he owned. This moment was worth it.

Once Angel figured out how to keep her hands off Mark's body and on the buttons, she began to unbutton his shirt as fast as she could. She ripped it off his body and raised it over her head triumphantly. She threw it to the ground, her wig flipping to it's passing. She resumed kissing him. Mark counted to three and pushed them on their knees. He made a point not to ruin her dress and unzipped it, sliding off the slinky material that clung to her tan body. Then he moved his hands slowly to the waistband of her hose...

That snapped Angel out of it. "Stop it, Mark!" she... he screamed. _He _was officially scared.

Mark shook his head a few times and looked at Angel. "What!"

Angel looked up at Mark, distraught. "Oh God... oh no... what did we do..."

Mark rubbed his eyes, realizing his glasses fell off his face and got stuck in the couch. "We... sorta went too far."

Angel began to curse, picking up his dress and the wig, which laid on the floor. "I'm so stupid."

"No you're not," Mark said. He found his shirt that was thrown on the ground. He draped it over Angel.

Angel kicked at his wig. "I promised Roger that I wouldn't do this."

"You can't help it if you love someone. Roger's just an asshole."

"Heh. I guess."

"And remember," Mark said, rubbing his back, "Nothing happened. You knew to stop. And it was fucking hot."

Angel giggled.

"You keep making these really hot noises and when you tried to bite off my shirt... that was brilliant."

Angel shrugged.

Mark whispered, "Come on. Let's go to my bedroom and..."

"Mark, we can't..."

"Angel, you taught me to be more courageous and take chances. Can't we share a bed? I don't think it's that much of an issue..."

Angel sighed. "You got me in my own game. Okay."

They got up and got dressed. Angel walked into the bathroom and noticed how his make-up was smudged all over his face. Even though it was cut short, it was hot. He felt downright sexy the more he thought about it.

He got ready for bed and padded back into the bedroom, curling up next to Mark with a big smile on his face. Mark smiled back, slipping his hand in Angel's undershirt. Angel didn't mind. And Mark had no complaints. Angel's skin was much softer than Maureen's, or any girl he ever dated prior.

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Aaaaaand... that's it. Please... feedback is nice.


	6. Sunday Morning

1Hah... I love this fic. I really do. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy... and let's me exercise my many Mark/Angel icons!

I'm in a fabulous mood... I watched "La Vie Bohéme B" again. You gotta love a girl that can spin her man around. Go Angel! You throw that white boy good!

Uhm... yeah... back to the fic!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned RENT... I'd laugh. God only knows how morally fucked up that would be.

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**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Six: Sunday Morning**

Roger opened the door to the loft and looked around. The table still had empty dishes from the night before. He raised his eyebrows. Well, that was odd. Angel had a cleaning complex that should have taken care of that. He walked to the couch and nearly tripped on black material. He gasped. "Oh no! They didn't!" He saw a black wig lying not too far from the black blob and he darted to Mark's room. He pushed the door open slowly, trying not to make a sound, and covered his mouth. Mark and Angel... together... in bed.

No fucking way.

Angel's eyes opened. He rubbed at them, yawning. "Hey, Roger..."

Roger whispered, "What did you do!"

"Nothing." Angel slipped out of Mark's grasp. "We didn't do anything. He just wanted to share a bed."

"Uhm... you dress and wig are on the couch."

"Heh. Mark's an animal. You were right. He went nuts when I gave him control." He ushered them out of the room and closed the door.

"So nothing happened?"

"Nope. Nothing. You happy?"

"Yeah. I am. Good job. Er... the place is a mess. Let's clean it... Mark won't be up for hours."

"Hah! I'm growing on you! Before you know it you'll want to cook dinner!"

Roger gave him his trademark scowl. "Don't get used to it."

They threw away the leftovers and cleaned the dishes. Angel picked up the dress and wig and tried to have conversation. "Have fun last night?"

"Yeah. I went to the bar with Collins and stopped by Catscratch."

"How is he?"

"Okay. He wants to talk to you... you know... 'just friends?'"

"Aw, sure! I'll call him or something... I'd shoot myself if we couldn't get along after all this..."

"That's good." Roger clunked two plates together loudly. "I mean, it'd be weird if you two were not talking anymore."

"I couldn't hate anyone that made me feel great. Sure, we fought, but life goes on."

Roger smiled. He had to respect Angel. Angel made a point not to hate anyone unless he had a valid reason (like the NYPD. "I was fucking man-handled!" was the only remark Angel could give after Maureen's protest erupted into chaos) and refused to pull Mark down with his own mistakes.

They finished cleaning and sat at the table with a breakfast of coffee and Cap'an Crunch. "You know what?" Angel asked, "I don't give a shit if Mark needs to charge up for the week. He's not sleeping all day!"

Roger snook his head, taking in a spoonful of cereal. "He's not waking up..."

Angel sighed. "Fine. I'll just do some sewing or something. Your clothing could use some mending. Fork them over."

Roger nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

Angel stretched, finishing off his cereal. "I'm going to get ready for the day... I'll be back..."

He disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared in a floral skirt and tank top. She spread her sewing kit on the couch, humming to herself. She pulled some neon green material from her bag and inspected it. It was in the midst of becoming a skirt. "You like this, Rog?"

"Er... sure," Roger said, slurping his milk loudly.

"I shouldn't ask you, I guess," Angel sighed.

"Angel, you shouldn't ask anyone. The answer is always yes. You could wear a paper bag and it'd look cool."

Angel smiled. "Aw... thank you, sweetie. Now where's your shirts? I need to fix them."

"Okay," Roger said, walking into his room. He returned with some shirts and a pair of pants. He put them on the couch next to her. "Take your time."

Angel nodded, taking a look at one of the shirts. She fingered at the hold on the sleeve. "Oh! Roger! We haven't been able to play together!"

Roger looked at his guitar. 'Now... we haven't."

"Let's play and wake Mark up!" She pulled Roger, pleading, "Come on, Roger!"

Roger sighed. He couldn't say no. He went to his guitar and Angel went to her pickle tub.

Roger grinned evilly. "He's going to kill us."

"Oh well!"

Roger put his guitar in his lap. "Gimme a beat!"

Angel slammed on her tub, kicking is with her heels. Roger began to play some chords. He had no idea Angel could create such a sound with such a simple instrument. Angel didn't realize that even though Roger didn't play much, he was good at it.

Mark stumbled in a few minutes later, his glasses hanging on him limply. "Oh God!"

Angel stopped, poking Roger to make him stop. Roger stopped as well. Angel squealed, "Morning, honey!"

Mark yawned. "You couldn't let me sleep?"

"Nope!" Angel chirped. She kissed him and smiled widely. Mark smiled back. 'This is nice..."

As they continued to kiss, Roger "slipped" an ugly chord. "Oh... oh _goodness_, I'm so sorry," Roger grumbled.

Angel giggled as Mark groaned. Angel pulled him close to her.

Roger yelled, "Am I going to have to leave again?"

Angel snickered, patting his shoulder. "No... not today... you don't have to worry."

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Mimi and Angel walked into the thrift store, ready to find tomorrow's big thing.

"You guys hit the one month anniversary!" Mimi cheered, finding a pair of red boots.

"Yep... Mark n' me... one month," Angel sighed, in dream land. She pulled a skirt out of nowhere. "This'll go with those boots."

Mimi nodded, trying to see if the boots fit. "You doing anything for it?"

"Yeah. I'm using some money from Miss Suzie and we're going out for dinner. Get this: Mark is considering letting me meet his family!"

"...what!"

"His parents keep on nagging him to come home. They want to meet his 'girlfriend' very badly."

"How did they find out about you?"

"I don't know. But I think Mark is so fed up with them, he's going to take me to meet them!"

"I... oh God... this is not good."

"Yeah. I realize. But it'll be fun!"

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Mark beamed as he opened the door for Angel. He gasped, "That food was so good! Where did you find that place?"

"Collins suggested it!" Angel chimed, "You know, he's all into food and stuff..." She unbuckled her heels and laid them on the ground. "I'm gonna take a shower. Come on."

"What?" Mark asked.

"It's our one month anniversary, and it's barely rained since we've been together! Come on."

She pulled him into the bathroom and they crawled into the tub. She blindly grabbed the knob for the water and before they knew it they were being pelted by hot water. They screamed, blocking the water. They finally got it to stop knocking them senselessly and just stared at each other, laughing. "You're so weird sometimes," Mark whispered, catching her in a kiss. She whimpered, leaning back on the tub. Mark wiped steam that was building up on his glasses and took in the image of Angel's white dress swirling in the water and her dark skin peeking through the thin material. He felt like he was in one of those French art films he forced Angel to watch a few times... maybe this was where she got it from. Angel grabbed his glasses and slowly removed them. She kissed his nose and said, "I love being caught in the rain with someone I love. It's a weakness."

Mark laughed. "No it's not. It's nice. Romantic."

Angel wrapped her arms around him and leaned on him. "Let's just stay like this."

Mark moved his hand in the water. "We might drown, honey."

"Fine," Angel grumbled. She crawled out of the tub, taking Mark's hand and pulling him out of it as well. They kissed once more for good measure. "I'm getting dressed for bed," she said, putting her hand under his chin. She slowly let go, smiling.

Mark looked down at his feet. "Oh God... Angel! You're not going to make me clean this up!"

He got a loud, malicious laugh in reply.

Mark sighed, finding a mop. As he moped he saw Angel sitting in the doorway of his room wearing his beloved blue sweater.

"Oh my God... Angel! Stop wearing my clothes!"

Angel smirked.

"Seriously! My grandmother made that!"

Angel hugged himself. "Yep! I like it! I think it'll go well with my black dress..."

"Please don't wear that!" Mark pleaded as he grabbed the blue and red material. Angel squirmed out of his grip and crawled onto the bed. Mark growled, lunging at him. Angel jumped out of his grasp with ease.

"Okay! Fine! You win! You get my sweater for the night... God."

"They're right!" Angel squealed, raising his arms triumphantly, "White men can't jump!"

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I hope the movie fans are enjoying they're DVDs! If you're like me, you covered up all but Angel, Collins, and Mark. Please take time from fangirling and review. Thank you!


	7. Modern Love

1I just want to say that I love you all and think you so effing much for liking this fic! That goes to both the LJ peeps and the peeps, who have to suffer my brain farts and wait for me to post chapters... a week after they're posted on LJ. I love you, I swear.

Note: I wasn't sure if Scarsdale was a city or a suburb... so I hoped for the best.

Another Note: I don't know Mark's parent's names. I just gave them some Jewish-y ones.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own RENT or David Bowie's "Modern Love"

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Seven: Modern Love**

Roger slapped the crappy Rent-a-Car. "Good luck, guys. Say hi to the Cohens for me!"

"Yeah! You better call me," Mimi demanded, kissing Angel and Mark.

Collins leaned onto Angel's side of the car. "Hey."

"Hey," Angel said, leaning her head out of the window.

"Uhm... you left your sunglasses at my place." He handed her the white-framed sunglasses.

"Aw... thank you!" Angel blew a kiss. Collins rolled his eyes. They were officially friends again. No doubt about it.

Mark pulled Angel back into the car. "We gotta go, babe."

"Okay!" Angel waved to the group as they drove away.

As soon as they got a block away they hit traffic. Mark slammed his head on the wheel. So much for a quick whisking away.

"Can I drive?" Angel asked.

"What! No! You don't even have a licence!"

"I do, too!"

"Please. You live off of public transportation!"

"I have it... _right here_!" She cried as she pulled the plastic out of her purse triumphantly. She shoved it in his face. "See? _See_?"

Mark took it, glancing at the road. "Your picture makes you look high. And... it expired... four years ago."

"Oh, really? Uhm... that's not good." She took it back, shrugging. "Fine. I'd rather be a slave to public transportation than a soccer mom." She pulled a bottle of nailpolish and announced, "I'm gonna paint my nails. Hang your head out of the window."

She opened the scarlet red polish and clunked bare foot on the dashboard. She sighed. "Turn on the radio or something."

Mark did. David Bowie's deep crooning his their ears. Angel squealed. "Hot damn! David Bowie!"

Mark smiled.

Angel sang with the music. "Modern love! Terrifies me! Modern Love! Walks on by! Modern love! Gets me to the church on time!"

She looked at Mark and beamed. "If I was white I'd totally go all Ziggy Stardust a few times. But oh well."

"You're better than Bowie."

"You're just saying that. You listen to that dorky alternative stuff." She blew at her toes. "Dammit! I left the cottonballs in the trunk... I knew I was missing something..."

"Sorry, honey."

As the song switched to some frivolous one-hit wonder Angel moved to her fingernails. She looked at the window and saw big, grey buildings. "Are we ever going to get out of this hellhole?"

"I thought you loved New York."

"I do! I do! It's still a hellhole, though. Kinda like your mother. You love her... but she just nags and nags and nags... right?"

"Yeah." Mark began to bang on the steering wheel.

"I can't wait to meet her. I bet ya we're going to be great friends!"

"Don't get too..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm not going to tell her I'm a guy, but she'll probably find out and when she does she will probably hate us for the rest of our lives, blah, blah, blah..."

She seemed to be taking it well.

"Yeah... Angel... just... argh."

Angel beeper went off before Mark could get anything out of his mouth. She sighed, pulling out her medication and a bottle of water jammed under her seat. After taking her medication, she finished her nails and leaned back, trying to take a quick catnap.

Mark watched her in the corner of his eye. Even thought they were caught in traffic and going crazy in closed quarters, they were damn lucky.

Once they clawed their way out of the city they moved smoothly to Scarsdale. Angel was asleep still. Mark snorted. "Am I that boring?"

Angel nodded, eyes still shut, but smiling. "Very."

Mark leaned over and kissed her cheek. "We're almost there."

Angel quickly snapped up, raising her hands and cheering. She fixed her wig (after checking her nailpolish was dry, of course) and applied lipstick on her lips. She pulled a silk scarf from her bag and wrapped it around her neck.

"What's that for?" Mark asked.

"So you parents won't notice anything," she said, pointing to her neck, "I'm not going to go up to them and say, 'Hi! I'm Angel and I have a penis!' I'll just let them guess on their own. I mean, I'm sure if you just sit them down and say, 'Mom, Dad, Angel's not a girl' they'll be cool with it. But I guess if you don't want to take a risk..."

"Yeah. I just don't want to take a chance."

"You never do."

"Shut up. Oh, look, all the druggies used to get high behind that diner! I did once."

Angel giggled. "You did?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"Maybe. We are lying that I'm a girl."

"True enough."

"Oh! Oh! Look, Mark! A thrift store!"

"Why am I not surprised? That's for later."

They turned into a street and parked in front of a house. Mark took a deep breath. This was it. He had to hope for the best. Angel looked at him, rubbing his knee. "Hey, honey?"

"What?"

"Do I look hot?"

Mark sighed. "As always."

"Good. Come on, Markie-baby." She went toward the cardoor, but stopped half-way. "Hold on. Lemme fix your face."

She took off his glasses and ran her hands through his hair a few times, leaving it messy and wild looking. She put the glasses back on and smiled, proud o fher work. 'There. Come on. Time to meet your birthgivers."

Mark gave her a weird look as they walked to the door and knocked. Mark held his breath as the door opened. They were welcomed with an enthusiastic, "Hello!"

An older woman kissed their cheeks and yanked them inside. The couple gasped as they nearly tripped over anything in their path. The woman began to inspect Angel. "How're ya?" she asked, "I'm Mark's mother, Jeanie!" She looked at Angel's skirt and pushed at it a little. Angel pushed her skirt in place, blushing. "Hello, Mrs. Cohen..."

"Oh! You're just too cute!" Jeanie squealed. "Harold, get in here!"

Mark's father came in. "Hello Mark," he mumbled. He looked at Angel. "You're... I know this..."

"Angel!" Jeanie exclaimed, "Your name is so perfect!"

Angel blushed even more. "Thank you! Uhm... uh... thank you..." For once, she was speechless.

Jeanie said, "Come on! I made tea and cookies! You both need to eat! My goodness!"

They went into the kitchen and talked.

"So, Angel," Jeanie asked, "Where are you from?"

"I was born in Queens," Angel said, "I was also at Brooklyn for awhile. And I moved into Alphabet City when I turned seventeen."

Harold watched her like prey. Mark gulped. Harold asked, "Are you Mexican?"

"Dad!" Mark screamed.

Angel twitched. "I'm Puerto Rican, thank you."

"So you're Catholic?"

Mark shut his eyes. Man, was he going to get it...

"I was brought up Catholic, yes."

"Brought up?"

"Well... yeah. I'm not very religious."

Mark groaned. Bad move. Honest, yes. But bad all the same.

"Harold, shut your trap!" Jeanie yelled. She looked at Angel, her face softening. "I'm so sorry, sweetie! He's nosy. Please, eat some more!"

Angel nodded, grabbing another cookie. She nibbled on it.

"How old are you?" Jeanie asked.

"Twenty-two, ma'am."

"You're a baby! What do you do?"

"I play drums and design clothes."

"Did you make that skirt?"

Angel played with her lavender skirt. "Yes."

"Oh! It's gorgeous."

Mark laughed. Once again, Angel wasn't lying. She was just not telling her that she didn't make any money off of it.

"Do you have a studio?"

"No, ma'am."

"No! We should get you one!"

Mark sighed. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear this. Long-term things weren't really allowed to be on his mind.

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Not my fave chapter. But I guess it happens to the best of us. But I promise, I will update soon if you review and if I can get out of the snow trapping me inside here :3


	8. Family

1Yaaay... thank you for your mail on this story! I'm so glad this fic is getting people into MarkxAngel! Yeeees.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own RENT. My friend is letting me download the OBCR recording track by track off her account thing.

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Eight: Family**

Mark toward his bedroom. It hadn't changed since he left for the Boho life. Posters of random alt bands, old cassettes, notes... He then heard his parents and made a quick turn toward the kitchen.

"...Will you leave them alone!" his mother asked, "Don't you see? Mark loves her!"

"Something's not right with her," his father muttered.

Mark slammed his back on the wall of the hall. He couldn't dare himself to enter the kitchen. Angel passed by. She caught the ending of Harold's sentence. She looked at Mark, scared. He grabbed her and held her close, swaying back and forth.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! She's polite, honest, and she loves Mark! She's perfect!"

Angel covered her face. She whispered, "This wasn't supposed to end up like this, Mark..."

"I know, I know," Mark said, rubbing her arm.

"I think she's a drug addict. I saw her purse..."

"You looked in her _purse_!"

Angel tried to ball herself up in Mark's arms.

"There were tons of pills!"

"Angel..."

"It's AZT, I swear."

"I'm not doubting you."

"I don't need to hear this!" Jeanie screamed, slamming her hands on the table.

"I have to tell them." Angel looked at Mark dead in the eye.

"What! No!"

Angel got out of his grasp. "Mark... I have to be a man. One day you'll understand."

Mark let go and sighed. One day he would. But it wasn't this day.

Angel walked into the kitchen, quiet as possible. "Stop fighting," she begged, "I can explain this."

"You better," Harold snapped.

Angel looked at her feet and nodded. "I can. You people have i no /I idea how much your son means to me... he's... he's just so great... and he helped me through so much... and... and he'd be able to tell you this, too... I'm not a drug addict."

Jeanie shot Harold a "Told you so!" look.

Angel smiled weakly. "But they're for something. They're... I have AIDS. I know it's probably scary, but your son is clean and I would never, _ever _put him into a situation that would endanger him... and you allowing him to stay by me is the only thing I want. Please don't take it away."

Jeanie and Harold stared, jaws dropped. Jeanie's mouth twitched and she finally said, "When... when... you... we... though..."

"One more thing," Angel said, eyes glued on her feet, "I'm... I'm not a girl. I'm... I'm a man." To emphasize this, Angel removed his wig and looked up. He wiped away his make-up on the back of his hand. "I guess... this is what you get for trusting your kid in Alphabet City, right?"

Mark rubbed his eyes. He shook his head back and forth. Then he sighed. He couldn't hide in the back. He couldn't be a coward. Angel just pinned her heart on her sleeve. Mark ran up to Angel and held him tight. "...I know you're mad... just... don't hurt her."

"Her!" Harold roared, "Mark! _He's _not a girl! He's a guy! He's not fooling anyone!"

"Harold! Shut up!" Jeanie screamed, covering her ears. "Harold! Please! She's dying! Stop scaring her! She doesn't need you telling her this!"

She got up and held Mark and Angel tightly. She looked directly in Angel's eyes. Angel didn't look at her, he looked down. Jeanie grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to meet with hers. "You're something, Miss Angel. You really are. I know why Mark loves you."

"Get him--"

"No. You two can stay as long as you'd like. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't allow you two to be together."

"He has AIDS! What's the point!"

That hit Angel deep. "What... what did you say?"

"How greedy can you get? You're pulling my son down with you."

"Angel wouldn't endanger our son..."

"What do you know!"

"I can't take this!" Mark erupted. "I'm leaving. C'mon, Angel!"

Angel nodded. She kissed Jeanie's cheek, smiling. "Goodbye."

They left after getting their things. They didn't speak until they were out of Scarsdale. Then Angel violently threw his wig on the floor of the car and began to cry. It wasn't a few stray tears. It was full-on sobbing. Mark pulled over and unbuckled. He grabbed Angel and said, "Angel, look at me. Look at me, Angel."

Angel looked up. He whispered, "I'm so sorry I'm like this... I'm so sorry I have AIDS. I'm so sorry I'm not a girl..."

"You don't have to be sorry for anything." Mark kissed him for emphasis. "I love you because of all that junk you have going on with you. If you took that away, you wouldn't be Angel."

He gave Angel a big hug and buckled his seatbelt.

"But... but, Mark, your family..."

"Eh, don't worry about them. My Dad is just an asshole."

"Mark, you don't understand... I don't give a shit about what Roger, Mimi, Collins, or anyone in Alphabet City thing... but your family..."

"Angel, shh. Go to sleep. Just... sleep. Forget this."

Angel leaned back and rubbed his eyes a final time.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah... I'm going to be fine."

"You sure?"

Mark got a tube of lipstick hitting his head in reply. "You made your point, Ms. Schunard." he said, starting the car.

------------------------------------

I didn't like this chapter that much. Everyone will be back to normal next chapter. I promise.


	9. Understanding

1Yeah... I'm having some troubles with the ending of this fic, so I've been focusing a lot of energy on fixing it, but I'm still updating! Yeah, maaaan...

Note: Mark comes off a little OOC-ish during this chapter... It wasn't really intended... rather, it stays to the fact that NYTW's version acknowledges that the poor man is horny! Give him a break!

**Disclaimer:** Hah. I laugh.

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Nine: Understanding**

"So how'd it go?" Collins asked as he and Angel eft Life Support.

Angel laughed bitterly, fixing her wig.

"Oh no... what did you do?"

"He thought I was a drug addict."

"Who thought you were a drug addict?"

"Mark's dad."

"You're high on _life_, but..."

"He saw my AZT."

"...Did he find out you have..."

Angel laughed loudly, borderline psychotic. Collins could see Paul ready to run over and find out what was wrong.

"Well?"

"I told him I'm a guy and I have AIDS. And he nearly killed us."

"You're i kidding /I !"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Collins stared at the crossdresser with an evidently-crooked wig.

"...Nope."

"His mom took it well. I like her. She called me today."

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah, but she's nagging me _on top_ of Mark. It's like, double reminder, 'TAKE YOUR AZT!' I know! I know! I'm a big girl now!"

Collins laughed, shaking his head. "Let's go. I'll take you home."

"Why thank you, sweetie!" She hooked arms with him as they walked in direction of the loft. When they got close, Collins unhooked his arm with hers. "I guess I'll drop you off here."

Angel smiled. "Thanks for walking with me, Collins."

"Anytime. Take it easy tonight. You look a little tired."

Angel rolled her eyes, walking away. She looked at Collins, who was walking away. She whispered, "He's such a nice guy... I hope he finds someone."

She threw open the loft and looked around. "Mark! Roger!"

She looked around, hearing someone say, "Hello, Angel."

"Ah! God! Oh... hello, Benny," Angel said, trying to keep her cool. "Why are you here?"

"No reason."

Angel started to close the door. Benny caught it and launched it back open. "Can I ask you somethings?"

"_What_?"

"How's Mark?"

"Why should you care?"

Benny sighed. "Contrary to popular belief, I care about you guys. How's Mark?"

"He's great." She smirked. Benny wasn't as evil as everyone proclaimed him to be, but she didn't feel like coming in contact with him, either.

"Roger?"

"That ol' bastard's gonna live forever."

"I hear ya! How are you?"

Angel rubbed her eyes.

"Not good?"

"No... it's not that... I mean... I dropped a little... why am I telling you this?"

"You're a socialite. I won't tell Mark. I promise."

"Thanks."

They were quiet for a moment, Angel playing with the door.

"Uhm... bye, Benny."

"Goodbye, Angel."

Angel shut the door. She finally realized that Mark and Roger weren't there. "Markie-my-love?" she asked. "Roger? Where are you?"

She noticed Roger's old sweatshirt laying on the table with a note that said, "Please fix. Roger." She shook her head, pulling her sewing kit from its home on a chair. As she got ready, the door swung open. "Hi!" Mimi, Mark, and Roger cheered, raising up cartons of Chinese food. Angel smiled. "You didn't leave a note, guys!"

"Sorry, sporadic... you cook too much," Roger said, throwing food on a coffee table.

Mimi sat next to Angel, throwing her sewing kit over the couch. "Let's eat!"

They grabbed cartons of rice and food with obscure names and dug in.

"How was Life Support?" Mark asked.

Angel swallowed some rice. "Good. Poor Sue's T-cells dropped. But we're good. You two should come!" She pointed to Roger and Mimi. "You were doing so well, Roger... and then you kinda died on us!"

Mimi shrugged. "Sometime."

Mark looked up, slurping his lo mein.

Angel giggled. "Baby! You got sauce all over your face!" She leaned in and licked his cheek.

"Ew! Ew! You _licked _him!" Roger screamed.

"Yeah!" Angel chirped. "He's tastey."

Mimi kissed Mark's cheek. "He is! You lucky little bitch!"

Mark blushed. "Come on..."

"Look, Mimi and I are gonna go to a club," Roger said, "You two wanna come?"

Angel shook her head. "I'm tired. I'm probably just going to go to sleep."

"Yeah... we'll hang. Have fun."

Mimi and Roger got up, nodding. "Okay. See ya."

Angel blew a kiss. As they left, she got up. "I'm gonna be in the bedroom... I got a really cool magazine..."

She waltzed into the bedroom she and Mark unintentionally shared. She pushed her skirt against her body and slipped on the bed, folding her knees in a rather complex position. She pulled a magazine from her nightstand and gazed at the too-blonde too-white-smiling model. She opened it up and as she began to read an interview, something hit her head. Confused, she looked next to the magazine and saw a black box. She pushed it over and sighed. "Condoms."

"Yeah," Mark said, leaning his arms on the bed. "You know... protection..."

Angel picked up the box, spinning it around in her hand. "No."

"Angel..."

"No. Don't. Jack off and don't even think about this."

She threw the box at his head. Mark jumped on top of her. "Please, Angel? _Please_? Just once?"

Angel shook her head.

"Why? We all know you and Collins were animals. Why the hell are you suddenly abstinent?"

"Because I don't feel like giving you my baggage." She cupped his cheek. "Baby, I'll be lucky if I have one more year around. You don't want to go through what I'm going through. We simply can't be together forever. So don't worry about me. When you get older you'll grow out of this and marry something and have a bunch of kids. Trust me."

Under normal circumstances, Mark would respect Angel, but his mind was so hellbent on sex, he slammed Angel against the headboard.

"Ow! Mark! What the fuck!"

Mark raised Angel's blouse and ripped it off her head. He ripped off the wig and went for her tights.

"Mark! Stop it! You fucking asshole!" Angel raised her foot and kicked Mark in the stomach. She grabbed anything in her range and threw it at his head. Mark got close again and Angel's eyes widened. She was out of ammunition. Mark grabbed her wrists and kissed her forcefully. Angel resorted to the only think she could do; scream.

"You bastard! Get off of me!_ Stop it!_"

The door swung open and Roger screamed, "What the fuck is going on!"

Mark let go of Angel. Angel rubbed her wrists.

"What the hell are you doing, Mark! You're hurting her!"

Mark gasped, realizing the extent of his damage.

Roger grabbed Mark and threw him out of the room. "You better not come back in here!" He slammed the door and picked up the bottles of medication, tape, and makeup from the ground. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... fine... thanks, Prince Charming." Angel shook her head.

"I don't know what got into him."

"I think he was just horny. Ow..."

"You need anything?"

"No. I just want to go to bed."

Roger nodded. Angel leaned over and hugged him. "Thank you so much, Roger. You saved his ass."

Roger laughed. "It's what friends are for..."

----------------------------------------------------------

I didn't like this chapter, either Well... mail is nice. Thank you.


	10. Forgiven

1Yep... I know... I'm a terrible person and I need to learn to manage updates... here's the next chapter! Thank you for sticking with this fic... it means a lot.

The talk show is a rip from Maury. I don't know if Maury was around in 1990... but...

...I just did the math. If Angel was real, she'd been dead before I was born. Wow. That's sad.

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Ten: Forget**

It took a week of Mark sleeping on the couch until they were able to talk without tension again. It was an accident. A misunderstanding. That was all.

Mark was well-aware that he had to make it up to Angel. So he resorted to talking to Miss Suzie Dee.

"You really _are _a freak!" Suzie yelled, "Even though she has AIDS, even though she doesn't want you to have to do any of that bullshit, you'd still do her?"

"Don't put it like that!" Mark begged.

"Please, honey. That's pretty much what it is, and you know it."

"Why is it so weird?"

"How do I put this lightly... Some people enjoy living. And, last time I checked, you don't need sex to live."

"I guess you're right..."

"Of _course _I'm right. I'm good with these things."

"Heh. Yeah, I guess. What should I do to make it up to her?"

"Do something cheesy. Like flowers. Or an overstuffed thing. Remind her you love her."

"Yeah! Okay! That's cool."

"Here." Suzie handed him a ten dollar bill. "Go to a card store. You're a cute little dork. You'll think of something."

Mark pouted. "Help me."

She nodded. "Okay."

They went to a nearby card store. They found a cute white bear and chewing gum. "Perfect!" Suzie cheered. They paid and left. Suzie handed him the bag. "Get going, okay? Fill me in tomorrow. Same time, same place."

"Okay!" Mark said, waving. He uncovered his bike and rode off to the loft. He waited for Angel, who was out drumming. He decided to pass time by making lunch. Even though he was positive that the bread was too old, he found it acceptable.

After setting up the table he waited. The door swung open and Angel came in. He plopped the pickle tub on the ground and looked up. He looked almost as if he was frowning at Mark. "Uhm... hey."

"Hey, baby! I made lunch! And..."

He gave Angel the bear and gum. Angel smiled. "Oh... thank you!" He shuffled in place a moment, unsure to hug Mark or do nothing.

Mark sighed. "Look, Ang, I'm so sorry for the past week... I know I was an idiot and I promise it'll never happen again."

Angel nodded. "Okay. I believe you." He touched Mark's cheek and looked at him directly in his eyes. Mark smiled. It was a good start.

They ate, talking. They weren't "good as new", but they weren't "bad" either. After awhile they could joke.

"This bear is too cute!" Angel cuddled his bear. "I'll name it after you."

"I'm so honored!"

"Yeah. It's pasty white... just like you."

"Hey!"

"I'm just teasing." He took off his hoodie and put it over the chair. He looked to the old TV Roger and he found in a pawn shop. It wasn't much. It only had three channels and it was constantly fuzzy. But it was entertaining when Angel got sick and they had nothing to do. They sat on the couch with slight distance between the two of them. They turned on the TV and found some talk show. They looked through the fuzz to determine the topic.

"Guy or girl?" Angel read. "Yes! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Mark groaned. "Hey! That's not fair! You're... you're..."

"Yeah, yeah. Look at that one... Pumkin. Okay. That ass is all padding. _Guy_."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"But the legs..."

"Watch."

Pumkin did a dance as some men screamed, "That better be a girl!"

Pumkin then pulled out a sign that said, "BOY."

"No way!" Mark screamed.

Angel giggled, clapping. "Told ya!"

Mark groaned, looking reminiscent of the men on the screen screaming in utter horror.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Angel beat Mark 10-2 (ten being the number of contestants), they decided to talk about the past week.

"Okay," Mark said, grabbing a pillow, "I'm sorry about when we fought. I really, really am. And I know it was horrible. And I know you don't want me to have to carry your baggage. And I know it sucks. But... but I've never felt this way about someone, Angel. Maureen... she owned me. I was her dog. You... you're different. You're amazing. And... and I just want you and me to do whatever we can to be a couple. And... I'm sorry."

Angel nodded. "I understand, Mark. But there's so many things that can go wrong. Condoms can break, we can mess up... like... I'm sure you've never even had anal sex."

"Erm..."

"I don't have a vagina, trust me."

"Yeah... well..."

Angel snickered at the way he blushed. "It's okay, Mark. I'm over it. If I sat around being angry at anyone who ever tried to get into my pants I'd probably be pretty lonely." He winked. He grabbed Mark and pulled him into a hug.

Mark smiled. They could do this. They could survive.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day was a Life Support day. Paul confronted Angel afterwards.

As Angel fixed her wig on her head she asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just wondering how you're doing."

"Okay."

"Still with Mark?"

"Yep."

"He doesn't really come, much... he should. He's as much apart of this as you, you know. It'll help him understand some things."

Angel nodded, flashing a smile. "Okay!"

At the next Life Support meeting, Mark sat by Angel and Collins. They watched a young woman that they never saw before walk in. She pushed her blonde bangs from her eyes. Angel squinted. This girl had to be one of Mimi's friends from Catscratch. She felt bad for the dancer, who must've just found out about her diagnosis because of the brand new black beeper against her hip. Angel looked at the one she had concealed against her thigh. It was covered in stickers that were beginning to wear off due to too much time on the job. She moved her hand to Mark's and swung it back and forth.

Paul sat down and said, "Hi, I'm Paul."

"Steve."

"Pam."

"Gordon."

"Danielle."

"Sue."

"Mike."

The new girl mumbled. "Hi... I'm Kimmy."

"Collins."

"Hi, I'm Ang--"

"SORRY WE'RE LATE!" Mimi screamed, dragging Roger with her. She waved. "Hi! I'm Mimi Marquez and this is Roger Davis... Roger! Say hi!"

"...hi."

"Ya see, we got HIV and we're friends with Collins, Angel, and _Kimmy! _ My Kimmy! Well, we're joining. Hi."

"Sit down," Paul begged.

Roger and Mimi dragged their chairs loudly across the hardwood floor.

Angel shook her head, slightly embarrassed. Mark tried to stifle a laugh.

Paul rolled his eyes. "I think we can begin."

"Right. Hey, Mark, why're you here? Did you... get... it?" Steve asked.

"Nope," Mark said, shaking his head.

"Mark was invited to join because he's as much a part of this as we are," Paul explained.

"You don't have AIDS... but..." Kimmy started.

"I'm Angel's, erm, boyfriend," Mark explained.

Kimmy squinted at the couple. Sure, they were the first to admit they were quite weird for a couple. They didn't look "right" in most people's eyes, but just the way that she looked at them like they had a fetus attached to them was nerve-wracking.

"So... you don't fuck."

"No! Of course not."

"Wow... like... how do you live?"

"You don't need to live off of that."

Angel looked at Collins and made a face. "She's crazy."

Paul sided with Mark. "Kimmy, they love each other. There's nothing more to it."

Angel tried to ignore the look that Kimmy kept giving them. She seriously thought the couple was crazy. She could have been on to something... but Angel couldn't be sure.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaaaand... next chapter it begins to go downhill... but you didn't hear it from me.


	11. Positive

I'm so sorry I just don't update this fic sometimes... I'm a horrible person... I'm sorry... I get easily... distracted.

Oh, and I've pretty much given up on the "he" pronoun for Angel... I seriously just don't care anymore XD She's a girl as far as I can tell... so... yeah. I'm sorry.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own RENT.

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Eleven: Positive**

August came in warm. Mark's Life Support membership became permanent, Angel and his relationship healed nicely, and they were working on rather strange, and downright random, videos. These included Angel mocking the voicemails of a certain Alexi Darling, who continued to bager Mark into joining Buzzline. Mark pretty much put his foot down. No way was he going to sell out. Angel, on the other hand, thought it'd be nice to be able to have the money. Who cared about selling out?

As long as it didn't cut into their videos, of course. The one they were currently working on was slightly serious. Angel was strutting down the street in a tailored pinstriped suit and pumps. She held a pen and writing tablet, pulling Mark around. They were doing a poll.

Angel found an older woman to ask. "Hello, ma'am! Where are you from?"

"I'm from Jersey. I'm visiting my buddies from Manhattan."

Mark was rather shocked at the way the woman warmed up to Angel so quickly.

"Fabulous. Would you like to answer a question for our poll?" Angel asked.

"Of course I would."

"Great! Uhm... you know of the whole AIDS thing, right?" Angel asked, moving her hands around in circles.

"Yes. I'm very well aware."

"Well, would you go out with someone who had AIDS?"

The woman stood there for a moment, trying to find a proper answer. "Well... I think I would. If you love someone, it really shouldn't matter, right?"

Angel and Mark grinned. "Good answer, honey!" Angel said, hugging her. "Thank you! See ya!"

They ran off to the next group of people. Mark whispered, "I think as a reporter, you're supposed to keep a rather neutral approach."

"Oh, whatever," Angel mumbled, finding a group of people.

"Hi! Would you like to talk a poll?"

"Yes."

"Sure."

"Okay."

"No... yes."

"Okay! Would you got out with someone that has AIDS?"

"What! No!"

"Why not?"

"No!"

"What difference does it make?"

Mark kept score in his head, even though Angel continuously wrote it down. By the time they were done they had thirty yes, twenty-four nos, and four maybes.

Angel and he went to the subway, slightly dejected. Angel held her head in her hand, wincing. "Ow... God."

"You okay?" Mark asked.

"I'm just hurtin' a little," Angel mumbled, "My feet kill me."

"Oh. Okay. Then why are you holding your head?"

She looked up at me. "I really don't know."

They staggered out of the subway station and straight to the loft. Mark put her to bed and began to worry. Should he call a doctor? He wasn't ready for this. He'd never be ready for this. Wait a second, she wasn't dying. She was just sick. But no matter. Whenever Angel got sick Mark worried. It just came natural for him. He checked up on Angel. Angel started at him and said, "You didn't have to throw me into bed like this. I'm fine. I swear."

Mark shook his head. "I know... I know, but it's only to be safe. The sooner we get you better, the sooner we can do more weird polls."

Angel smirked, leaning ack. "Tomorrow will be, 'Is the president evil or incompetent?' Just for you political nuts."

Mark shook his head once more. "You need anything?"

Angel shrugged. "A water. Food. You got any ice cream?" He curled up under the sheets.

Mark laughed. "You're crazy." He kissed her forehead and tried to hide his evident frown. Angel had a fever. He pulled back slowly and knew who he had to call.

His mother.

Evidently concerned, she told Mark to be careful, do the rag-on-forehead thing, and if the fever was still there tomorrow, call a doctor.

So that night, Mark and Angel laid in bed together, eating crustless sandwiches. Roger joined them and sat on the bed with them. He talked about the things they missed on their day doing God know's what (if only he knew!), and just listen to their babble between bites of food.

"Pruh buis 'er dah bes!" Angel tried to say with food n her mouth.

"That's not very lady-like," Mark teased.

Angel gulped. "You guys are the best ever."

Mark checked her forehead. "We may just be. I think your fever is breaking."

Angel smiled, finishing her sandwich, and laying against Mark's chest. She went to sleep quickly.

"Mark," Roger whispered.

"What?" Mark asked.

"I've been thinking about this... have you gotten tested since you started going out with Angel?"

"No."

Roger nodded. "You should, just in case."

"Yeah... I should."

The next morning, Angel felt much better. She jumped around a little, even attempting to make breakfast. Roger pinned her onto the couch and said that if she even tried, he was going to rip her penis off. She wasn't exactly scared of him, or cared if he did it, seeing as though she really wasn't using it much, but she sat down obediently, watching Roger attempt. She got dressed and wore nothing too elaborate, and still sounded sick. Mark took notice, and he hoped that if he left randomly to get a bloodtest, Angel wouldn't take notice. He didn't want to scare her.

"Where're you going?" Angel asked, playing with one of the loose threads on the couch.

"Out. I'll be back."

"Oh... if you're going to get food or something, I need some more mascara..."

"Okay. Bye."

Mark left, not even kissing Angel. Angel looked at Roger. "What is he really doing?"

"I told him to get a bloodtest."

Angel sighed. "He could have told me."

Roger shrugged. "He's weird like that."

Angel stole the coffee Roger had just made a took a sip. "He couldn't even wait for my doctor's appointment on Thursday..."

"Nope."

"He can be so stupid."

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Your t-cells have dropped significantly since the last appointment," the doctor announced to Angel.

Angel nodded, her legs moving back and forth in suspension from the bed she sat on. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's not your fault!" the doctor giggled, "You couldn't have prevented this. Is... is your caretaker here?"

Angel nodded. This wasn't good.

Mark came in, sitting next to Angel. He held her close.

"Well..." the doctor said, "...Mr. Schunard, it appears that you are in what some people may call the 'final stage' of the disease." She put her hand on Angel's shoulder. "You should get your priorities in order, in case you haven't already."

Mark rubbed his eyes. "So... will there be any new medication necessary?"

"Yes. I must warn you, the side effects will be quite terrible, I'm afraid. There isn't much we can do aside make sure you get proper sleep and diet, and make sure you don't push yourself."

Angel nodded. "Okay... uhm... yeah..." She rubbed her neck nervously. "Thank you so much doctor." She shook her hand.

The doctor nodded, admiring Angel's confidence. "You're welcome."

Angel jumped off the bed and helped Mark off. Mark was still trying to take it in. "Angel..."

"Are you okay, baby?" Angel asked, grabbing some pamphlets a nurse handed her. "Oh... here's one." She handed him one titled, "Accepting a love one has AIDS."

Mark grabbed the teal-colored paper and stared at it in disbelief. "Angel... aren't you scared at all?"

Angel shrugged. "I guess I am. I mean, there's no joking now. But hey, I got you, Mark, as far as I'm concerned, I'm fine."

Mark bit his lip and sniffed. "Right."

"Mark!" Angel exclaimed, "Don't start crying on me."

Mark rubbed his eyes, his glasses nearly falling off his face.

"Mark! Please!" Angel begged, "Don't cry! If you start crying, I'm going to start crying!"

Mark fell into her, sobbing.

Angel shook her head and held him close. She allowed one or two tears to slide down her cheeks. She figured she had to let it all out now, and not later.

Mark tried to catch his breath. As far as he was concerned, his bloodtest might as well be positive. He honestly felt dead at the moment.


	12. Witness

**Disclaimer:** I don't own RENT!

**Pos/Neg**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Twelve: Witness**

Angel kissed Mark and fell back on the bed. She put her hands between her head and the pillow and smiled. "I love you."

Mark fell back as well. "Me, too."

Angel's eyes narrowed. "You're not supposed to say 'me, too', you're supposed to say, 'I love you' back! Haven't you ever watched a chick flick?"

Mark sighed. "I'm sorry, Ang, I don't pass my time doing that."

"Well start." She began to giggle, until she started to cough. Mark nearly flipped out, until Angel pushed him with her free hand. "Don't worry, Mark. Everyone coughs."

Mark was going to come up with a sarcastic comment, but he didn't. Instead, he sat up, looking around the tiny room. Two weeks. Two weeks since the diagnosis. For two weeks they were, for the most part, okay. Angel was fighting off a small cold, but was still breathing. Mark kept wondering where she got that one, where she got this damned disease in the first place.

He had to remember what those pamphlets said. Each and every time. Over and over. _It's not your fault. It's_ not _your fault_.

But what did the designer of that pamphlet know about assuming caretaker of someone who was dying too young, too fast, and too violently? Did they stay awake all night, tossing and turning, thinking, that if he had done something different, the outcome would change.

But that was silly. Mark was well aware. If Angel didn't contract HIV, she wouldn't have met Mark. She drummed because she needed money. Money for rent, money for clothing, money for food, money for AZT. AZT could easily zap your expenses (he knew that offhand). So the more you work, the more money you have, and the more money you can have to put forward for medication, et cetera. She probably wouldn't have been out on _Christmas Eve_ unless she badly needed the money. If she wasn't out, she wouldn't have met Collins. If she never met Collins, she would never have any connection to Mark and Roger. This wouldn't happen. None of this would. For Mark, at least.

The phone rang, pulling Mark out of his hole. Angel flinched as Mark reached over her for it. "Hello?" he asked as he put it to his ear.

"Hello. This is the East Village Clinic with Mister Mark Cohen's test results. May we speak to him?"

"This is Mark. What's going on?"

"Your test results have come back negative for HIV and..."

Mark listened to the woman drone on. Angel overheard the conversation, smiling to herself. As far as she could tell, no one was hurt.

Mark smiled back at her and said into the phone, "Oh! That's great! Thank you! Bye."

He hug up.

Angel yawned. "Why didn't you tell me you took a blood test?"

"I didn't want to scare you."

"Bullshit," Angel mumbled.

Mark looked down, slightly ashamed. "Yeah... I guess so."

A week later, Angel felt healthy enough to walk around in heels. She twirled, sitting down next to Roger as he read the newspaper. Roger looked at her, smiling. "Hey, it's goog to see you back."

Angel smiled. "It's good to be back, honey."

Roger nodded. He then toyed with the next question in his head for a bit, trying to figure out how it would sound. "So... uhm... does it hurt?"

Angel knew what he wanted to know. He was pretty much in the same boat as her. It was only a matter of time. "Sometimes. I don't suggest wearing heels."

Roger laughed weakly. "Yeah, I guess."

Angel leaned back, looking around the loft. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I don't know why, but I just noticed I've been kinda... at the loft for a real long time."

"Yeah, and?"

"I feel like a mooch."

"You buy so much shit for us, it makes up for it. 'Sides, I really like you here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really. Of all the women Mark has ever dated, you're my favorite."

Angel pulled Roger into a huge hug and looked for Mark. Right on cue, Mark came out of his room and Angel jumped on him, hugging him from behind.

Mark let out a shriek, nearly throwing Angel on the ground. Instead, she fell down on her backside, laughing until she slipped an unlady-like snort. Roger flinched, getting up and making sure no one was hurt. The only one who seemed hurt was Mark's glasses, that fell on the ground next to Angel's leg. She picked them up and wiped them off, giving them back to Mark. No harm, no foul.

* * *

By the time the Life Support meeting came, Angel was tired. She felt her eyes constantly grow heavy, but she refused to miss another meeting. She sat quietly, listening to everyone, instead of being one of the more vocal members.

Mark and Collins decided to do all the talking for her. She leaned on Mark and smiled at Collins, thankful she had such good people surrounding her.

When the meeting ended, Paul said, "Mark, can I talk to you afterwards?"

Mark turned to Angel and bit his lip.

Collins said, "I'll take her home. It'll be fine. Right, Ang?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah, Mark, leave me with the guy that got mugged."

Mark smiled. She still had a sense of humor. That was a good sign. He leaned into her and kissed her cheek. He turned to Paul and asked, "What's up?"

"I know it's sort of a bad time... but Albany is having an AIDS conference. I was wondering if you would like to speak at it.

Mark gasped. "Me!"

"Yeah. The topic is mainly people infected living normal lives. And seeing as though you are part of the 'normal' in Angel's life, and a lot of the people here at Life Support, you should talk about your relationship with her."

"Can she come?"

"Of course. As long as she's up for it."

Mark nodded. "Okay. When is it?"

"Not this weekend... next weekend. Thank you so much, Mark."

"Anytime."

* * *

"They want _us_ at an AIDS conference?" Angel asked, excitedly. "No way, Mark! That's gonna be so... so powerful!"

"I guess you're up for it," Mark assumed.

"Yes!" Angel lunged and hugged him. "I'll just rest up... this is going to be the best!"

Mark smiled, hugging her back. "Whatever you say, Angel."

* * *

Angel was well-behaved for the next week and a half. The day before the conference, they boarded a bus with Paul paying. As they sat in the middle of the bus, Paul reviewed notes with Mark, Angel sewing and listening to it whenever she felt she had to.

"Baby, what do you think of this?" Mark asked, showing her some pieces of yellow lined paper.

Angel read the lines and cringed.

"What?"

"Don't mention the time you threw a condom box at my head."

Someone in front of them turned around to face them.

"Just say there was sexual tension, or something."

The person stared at them blankly.

Angel made eye contact with them. "Oh, lighten up, honey, everyone does it."

"So... other than that?" Mark asked.

Angel turned back to him. "I like it. I like it a lot. Just don't get nervous. I'll be right there with you."

Almost exactly fourty-eight hours later, Mark stood at a podium, wearing a suit and red ribbon against his breast. Angel sat behind him, smiling. She didn't like wearing the men's tailored suit that much, but she got over it. It was a small price to pay for being here.

Mark heard the announcer say, "And now, Mister Mark Cohen."

Mark cleared his throat. Now or never.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Mark Cohen and I am HIV-negative."


End file.
